NEW YORK — The Counterfeit Opera, an updated adaptation of an 18th-century popular entertainment, opened the summer performance season at Little Island, a miraculously engineered man-made island built in the Hudson River off the end of W. 13th Street. The 2.4 acre park, contoured and verdant, features a 700-seat outdoor amphitheater facing the water, where free or gently priced performances run from May to September. The June 8 show (originally the 10th of 15 performances) was partially interrupted by rain, but even with skeletal staging and musical accompaniment, it provided an energetic, entertaining, and timely interpretation of its 18th-century prototype.
John Gay’s The Beggar’s Opera was a ballad opera, an 18th-century English form consisting of spoken dialogue and unaccompanied popular tunes, including broadside ballads, hymn tunes, and even well-known melodies from operas. Ballad operas used popular idioms to satirize Italian opera, then very much in fashion, and poked fun at their audiences as well as contemporary social issues. Handel premiered two Italian operas in 1728, the year The Beggar’s Opera opened. But Gay had something of a rebellious bent, and a satirical work mocking the wealth and corruption of government and the upper classes was more his style than Handel’s pastoral Acis and Galatea, for which Gay had provided the libretto in 1718.
The Beggar’s Opera was very successful in its day and since has had numerous revivals. Notable arrangements include versions by Benjamin Britten (1948), Richard Bonynge and Douglas Gamley (1981, with Joan Sutherland, Kiri Te Kanawa, James Morris, and Angela Lansbury), and the 2018 version by William Christie and Robert Carsen, with Baroque-era pop tunes performed by Les Arts Florissants.
The Threepenny Opera, the landmark adaptation by Bertold Brecht with original music by Kurt Weill, remains the most frequently revived incarnation. Combining Brecht’s trenchant dramaturgy with Weill’s jazz-age score, this interpretation reflected the era’s cultural instability and also yielded several songs that took on a life beyond the show. A 1931 film version by G. W. Pabst features Lotte Lenya as Polly Peacham. The Threepenny Opera is regularly revived by major theater and (less often) opera companies.
But The Counterfeit Opera is a scrappier, leaner enterprise. Taking as a point of departure Gay’s original scenario, playwright Kate Tarker moved the action from London to New York City during the corrupt reign of Tammany Hall. Aptly subtitled “The Beggar’s Opera for a Grifter’s City,” the action takes place in the Five Points neighborhood, a notorious, crime-ridden slum. Peppered with local references — Tammany Hall, the Tombs (the Five Points jail whose name is still in use for the city’s holding facility), the Met Opera (a rack of “borrowed” costumes), mockery of New Jersey — this was a show for people who know New York. But it was also a show for anyone who has been conned, cheated, deserted, broke, or otherwise disappointed.
The show began as assorted local denizens, mostly thieves and prostitutes, burst onto the stage, loudly complaining about hard times. Engaging the audience, they asked, “Can you afford your rent?” “No!” “Can you afford food?” “No!” And so on — the audience was already hooked. After some words about a second Gilded Age, an introduction to Five Points, and an ominous warning that “someone will die,” our narrator crowed, “Let’s get this party started!” and the overture began while 19th-century costumes (by Rodrigo Muñoz) were donned and the stage furnished. Dustin Wills directed and designed (with Lisa Laratta) the simple sets, which included a scaffold at the back of the stage, and tables, chairs, and beds carried on and off by actors and stagehands. Rosie Herrera’s extroverted choreography filled the space. Balancing the often frantic action onstage, river traffic added a gentle background counterpoint.
The plot, in broad outline: Polly Peachum has secretly wed Macheath, an industrious petty thief, arsonist, and profligate womanizer, against the wishes of her father, a dealer in stolen goods, who relies on her charm and skill to help him acquire property. Mr. Peachum arranges with Mr. Lockit, the jailer, to entrap Macheath and split the reward. Lockit bribes two working girls to betray Macheath when he visits the local whorehouse before going into hiding, but Lockit’s sister Lucy, also married to Mac, helps him escape prison. After trying to poison one another, Lucy and Polly abandon their jealousy to bond over their mutual love for Mac. At the last minute, Mac is granted a reprieve. Tarker’s book both simplifies the story and adds song and dance numbers for thieves and whores, as well as extra mayhem, including a boxing match, a conflagration, and a surprise ending.
Gay’s scenario is fast-paced, eventful, and packed with 69 songs, originally meant to be sung unaccompanied (though Johann Christian Pepusch was recruited last-minute to write an overture and some accompaniments). For this version, Tarker and music director/composer Dan Schlosberg created some 20 numbers — solo ballads, love duets, a suave quartet for four whores, raucous ensembles, and punchy dance numbers. The energy and style were pure Broadway, with many eclectic elements woven into the texture. While I heard nothing resembling a Scottish ballad, there were nods to Weill’s dry, rhythmic accompaniments, and even a quote from The Fantasticks. The versatile Schlosberg, who for 10 years has adapted standard opera scores for Heartbeat Opera, worked his transformational magic on an ensemble of seven instrumentalists doubling on winds, strings, and keyboards.
As it happened, the full ensemble got to play only about a quarter of the show. Just a half hour in, during a raucous barroom ensemble, the lights went up and a voice dismissed the actors from the stage. Though it didn’t reach the audience, a light rain was falling on the musicians. So the players climbed down from their platforms as stagehands partially struck the set. After 30 minutes, the play resumed, only to be halted again just six minutes later. This time the stage was emptied almost completely, the air grew misty, and people started to leave.
After half an hour, Tarker came out to address the 40% of the audience who had stuck it out. Explaining that the cast was eager to perform, especially after the previous show had been canceled, she said, “It’s going to be you, the actors, and Dan playing the goddam piano!” Everyone cheered, and 10 minutes later the crew set up tables and chairs to resume the tavern scene, and the cast mustered exceptional energy and concentration to continue. After two hours already spent on a hard bench, the additional 65 minutes felt long — I could have done without the rigged boxing match. The actual run time of not quite two hours would have been just right. Still, I was never bored.
Tarker’s book had energy and humor, but it also had heart. If some of her references were puzzling (“You can’t put ketchup on a Catholic”), she illuminated the daily struggles of the New York depicted in How the Other Half Lives. (Jacob Riis’ 1890 expose about tenement life in New York City.) Schlosberg’s score was tuneful and propelled the action efficiently while deftly referencing an array of theatrical music styles. And the chemistry between cast and audience was only enhanced by the glitches, including an early moment when an audience member mistakenly responded to a cue directed to a character planted next to him. The actors proved nimble at improvisation when needed.
Among the strong cast, standout performers included the wily, dapper Vin Knight as Peachum. As Lockit the jailer, Sola Fadiran oozed menace through a jovial veneer. Ann Harada as Mrs. Peachum offered an impressively operatic opening sort-of aria. Dorcas Leung’s Polly Peachum alternated between sweet and tough, both vocally and theatrically. Damon Daunno played Macheath with irresistible swagger and sang with an unusually wide range. Jenny (Lauren Patten), a former Macheath love interest, stopped the show with her powerful lament for lost love and innocence.
This sparkling production would be a natural fit for an off-Broadway run, especially in a theater without a weather hazard.
